Superintendent Song may be a boor, but these days, few in the civil service were illiterate. He had gone through the education system and knew a bit of literature, hence when Superintendent Song heard the first two lines, he cursed in his heart. He only wished that he could curse all of Zhang Ye’s eighteen generations of ancestors. He immediately said, “Hold the ground! I’ll be there immediately!” Then he shouted into the kitchen, “There’s no need to cook the noodles. I’m leaving!”
His wife came out, surprised, “I’ve already boiled the water. Leave after you eat.”
“What is there to eat!” Superintendent Song wished that he could die, “I encountered a darn hooligan! I got eight generations of bad luck! In the past, people said that eight out of ten scholars were hooligans! I didn’t believe it! But now, I instead feel that ten out of ten scholars are f**king hooligans!”